


Verständigung Asperum (Communication Difficulties)

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Ozglyn - Slices of Eternity. [7]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6084246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glynda gets confused. Oz treads thin ice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Verständigung Asperum (Communication Difficulties)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, more of this. Hope you all enjoy. In addition a massive thank-you to the wonderful reviewer who thought my stuff needed to be a segment on the actual show.
> 
> (I checked BTW, and all the phrases are Google Translate compatible, so you can use that to find out what they're saying.)

“Oz”, Glynda said, blinking at the notebook in her hands; “I'm not fluent in chicken scratch”. Oz glanced up from his transcribed version of Midsummer Night's Dream.  
“My handwriting is perfectly legible”. He denied after a moment of looking at the notes Glynda was reading through.

Again, Glynda scrutinised the notes she held, in contrast to her own handwriting, which was neat, measured, slightly curled, and overall perfectly serviceable; Oz's writing was a scrawling mess in the penmanship of someone with an absent mind and too little time (which was rather odd, now she thought about it).

“I have never seen someone make more of a mess of a page” she muttered, squinting at the sprawling mess of (alleged) writing in front of her.  
“Who? Shakespeare?” Asked Oz, holding up his play, “but you said you quite liked him”.

With one hand, Glynda massaged her temples. “No Oz, not Shakespeare, you. Your writing is so bad I can't even read this whole line, honestly I can't make head nor tail of it”.  
“That's because it's German, Glyn” he tutted, never looking up from his literature.

Glynda stopped a moment, mentally rewinding the last half an hour of trying to decipher Oz's mess of bad acronyms and other illegible nonsense. She felt another headache coming on.  
“Why” she ground out, teeth starting to grate “have you written your Grimm studies notes, in German…” she growled the last two words, and Oz, sensing he might be treading dangerous ground, set down his play and gently pulled Glynda out of her chair, which, like his, was situated around the small study table in their dorm, and into his lap.

Gently he took the papers from her hands, set them on the table and started to rub her shoulders comfortingly.  
“I'm sorry Glyn, I tend not to notice if I'm mixing languages, it's just what I've always done to keep my fluency up after I stopped studying the language”. He felt her relax into him, tension draining from her frame.  
“Verumtamen noli amare” she whispered, suddenly quite tired. Oz smirked, he knew he was doing well when Glynda started muttering in Latin.

“Natürlich meine Liebe, etwas anderes?” she glared at him for a moment, then dropped it as she relaxed further into his presence, she'd know what he meant regardless of language after all.

He stood up after a moment, leading her away and towards her bed, gently letting her lay down, then being pulled weakly down beside her and pulling the covers over them as she buried her face in his neck and fell asleep. 

They've both had a long week, he reflects, as he watches her beautifully vibrant eyes close, it'll be good for them both to get some rest.


End file.
